


A Miracle

by Smileymask



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Capital Punishment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smileymask/pseuds/Smileymask
Summary: After escaping from Udon Prison, Kid and Killer retrieve their crew and reach a decision regarding their participation in the upcoming battle.Or, Killer and the Kid Pirates come to terms with Killer’s laugh.Spoilers up to Chapter 981.
Relationships: Eustass Kid & Killer, Eustass Kid/Killer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

They were defenseless. Kid and Killer had escaped from Udon Prison with little else but their lives and the clothes on their backs. Even the metal Kid had used to blast out of the prison gates was sloughing off rapidly from his hands.

Kid did not know where he was going; he was merely keeping up with his inscrutable partner, who had set off into the wastelands of Udon with apparent conviction as to where he was going. Any direction, really, was the same to Kid, with his limited knowledge of the land, as long as they put distance between themselves and the prison.

The bullets Kid had been hit with must not have been made of ordinary metal, as they would not respond to Kid’s abilities. Kid’s strength was flagging rapidly. He had to get the bullets out as soon as possible, or his abilities would not hold up for much longer.

Killer led him out of the wasteland and into a forest path, almost faster than Kid could follow. He moved strangely now, as though he were using his combat maneuvers outside of battle, except there was no restraint at all in his movements.

Even as he ran after his partner, Kid was still reeling from the events that had brought him to this point. Finding Killer in the streets, chained and being dragged to who knows where; being all but drowned; Big Mom hurtling into the prison and wrecking everything, including their very death sentence; Straw Hat Luffy voluntarily getting himself infected with a plague and asking Kid for his help in taking down Kaido. But all the sheer ridiculousness barely even registered in the face of the burning knowledge - that Kid's salvation was not yet complete, and Kid had much work ahead of him to declare himself and his crew saved.

  
  


The forest path contained many dilapidated structures, but Killer stopped at a specific hut in a clearing. It was unobtrusive, almost hidden among the vegetation, but Kid’s trained eye saw that the grounds had seen a lot of traffic, as the weeds were trampled and the ground was full of footprints and hoof marks.

The inside of the hut was a close and dark room, stuffy and windowless. A heavy smell of incense covered a lingering odor of blood and sweat.

Killer made a beeline to a drawer and rummaged through it. He first took out some matches and lit the candles, and rummaged through the drawers some more.

In the candlelight, Kid could make out the interior a little better, a bare-bones room of an unfamiliar style. It was orderly on the surface but the cleaning job was obviously sloppy. There were dark stains on the bamboo mats and mud on the walls, crumpled sheets and bandages piled in one corner of the room. 

Further small, insignificant details caught Kid's eye: a rag thrown carelessly on the floor, crusted with dried blood.

A bundle of thin, long rattan sticks.

An enormous leather glove on the low table beside the futon. 

Something lurched in Kid's stomach at the sight.

Killer stopped his rummaging and cast a small paring knife onto the futon. It must have been what Killer was looking for; Killer sank to the floor in that fluid, capricious manner he had acquired, facing away from Kid.

Fwa fwa fwa, he laughed, shoulders shaking.

Kid swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. Tried to calm the sudden shaking of his body. Putting his suspicions in words seemed impossible; indeed, Kid did not even know what to begin to suspect. Not only had the worst suppositions he had dreamt up in his prison cell seemingly come to life, but new, unimagined horrors sprang up in his mind, each more unthinkable than the last. It took him a while to get himself together to figure out what Killer wanted him to do with the paring knife.

“Give me a minute,” Kid said, the words feeling shamefully hollow and inadequate. He picked up the knife, heating it on the flame of the candle.

Kid would never get used to this despite how many times he'd done this before. The flesh around the bullets was already swollen from the water torture and the exertion of fleeing all the way to the hut, and this would not be an easy extraction.

Kid lay on the futon for a while afterwards, grimacing and gasping in pain.

When he opened his eyes, he was confronted by a wide, unnatural grin. Silently, Killer had crept in front of him, holding a handful of bandages. Kid felt an involuntary jolt of fear at the sight.

Killer kept his gaze fixed on Kid's chest as he raised Kid into a sitting position and bandaged his torso. 

Killer lowered him down on the futon again. Up close, Kid could see red seeping through the slashed bandages on Killer's chest.

“Hey, you're wounded--” Kid reached out--

Killer launched himself back with a startled burst of laughter.

And crept back, head bowed almost submissively, and shrugged off his black robe off his shoulders. 

In the unbearable tension between them that seemed to be getting thicker by the minute, Kid cut away the dirtied and frayed bandages. The wound looked bad - three deep slashes, meeting precisely at the middle to form a grotesque asterisk.

“Who did this?” Kid asked as he finished dressing the wound. “I will kill him.”

Killer shook his head, no.

Killer was cognizant, Kid could tell that much from the start, but Kid had to know - even while he dreaded finding out - exactly where Killer's mental faculties ended. What if - god forbid - he was no longer capable of speech?

“Hey, Killer, you hear me, don't you?”

He shook his head even more forcefully, like a child throwing a tantrum, and laughter bubbled up from his throat again.

Kid buried his face in his hand in despair and frustration. But Kid had to remind himself that, as ludicrous as the idea was, whether Killer could respond to him or not was the least of Kid’s worries at the moment. He needed to find his ship and his crew as soon as possible, or else he would be throwing away this unexpected reprieve from death. Kid needed to prioritize. He would need to keep himself focused, as the man who usually kept Kid’s nose to his grindstone was indisposed.

He spoke out aloud to himself, drawing a plan in his mind. 

“We need to find the rest of the crew, and then get our hands on a ship. They weren't in any of the prisons at Udon, we checked all five… No use going back there. I have no idea where they are but we gotta hurry, because they’ll know that we escaped and they’ll be ready for us trying to get them back.

“God, If I only knew where to start…"

Killer's hand closed around his wrist, and tugged.

Whatever was left inside of Killer had not led him astray yet; Kid followed his partner's lead once again.

  
  


They made their way through winding forest paths again until the air turned acrid and smoky, and they came to a large walled structure.

"You think they're in here?"

The prison was large and it took a while to discover an opening in the solid wall, an iron gate for input and output of material and products. 

They lay in ambush at the gate for what seemed like hours until Kid spotted familiar faces between the bars.

It was Heat, Wire, and Specs, moving a half-finished cannon between the three of them. Killer's laughter started up again; apparently he recognized them too.

Kid dragged them over to the gate by their iron shackles. 

“Boss Kid, you're alive!” They whispered incredulously, looking around to see if they had been spotted by guards. “And--”

Their expressions froze into pity and shock.

Kid knew on some level that there was no ill intent behind their reaction. Most of the crew had seen Killer's face here and there, but Killer was simply unrecognizable like this. Even Kid would not have recognized him had it not been for his laugh, the gut-familiar sound echoing from somewhere in the crowded street. Kid had found Killer only by rushing blindly after the sound, without even a plan of action.

Before Kid could voice the protective indignation that boiled in his stomach, Killer cut him off.

"It's me," said Killer. Kid did a double take at the unexpected sound of his voice. Fwa fwa fwa, he laughed again before continuing. “Where are the others?”

“Killer-san,” Wire said, “most of us are together in this prison. A few of the others got assigned to the docks.”

Killer nodded. 

"That's good," said Kid. "How many guards are here? You think we have a chance if we go for a direct fight?"

"I would think so, boss, with your powers. There's only fifty guards or so."

Kid had expected the prison to be heavily fortified, but it seemed to be business as usual.

Had news of his escape not reached this prison? Was he supposed to believe that news of _Big Mom_ and a full-scale revolt at Udon Prison had really not reached this prison?

Whatever. He'd take whatever he could get. Kid's powers told him that the prison was full of metal, probably a weapons factory like Udon from the looks of it. And the more metal Kid had to work with, the more powerful he became.

There were enough weapons and raw material to send an entire wall of the prison crumbling down. Kid made short work of the chains shackling the prisoners' feet, and the Kid Pirates moved in quickly to overtake the security and the communications system.

Kid crushed every last one of the prison guards between vice grips of metal.

"Scram," He told the rest of the cowering prisoners. "Don’t you dare let word of this get out to the Beasts Pirates or you’ll end up ground beef like those guards."

The Kid Pirates sorted through the gathered weaponry, each taking what suited him. One crewman found one of Killer’s motorized gauntlets amid the jumble of metal.

Kid couldn’t fathom why Killer’s gauntlet would be here of all places, but he wasn't about to question the unbelievable streak of luck that had followed them ever since Big Mom had shown up at Udon Prison.

They recovered its mate as well. Kid examined the metal with his mind, and saw nothing amiss with the motor mechanisms. He punched out the dents in the exterior with a flick of his finger and handed them to Killer. Kid was gratified to see him put them on over his bandaged wrists, though they weren't useful for anything at the moment.

.........................

Their rescue mission was no less than a resounding success.

Even the Victoria Punk had not been destroyed, against all odds. After retrieving the last handful of the crew doing cargo labor at Mogura Port, they had hijacked a ship and sailed in search of an isolated harbor they could dock at. They passed what looked to be a graveyard of ships, thousands upon thousands of them collected in one place. It was there that the Kid Pirates spotted their beloved ship with its skull figurehead.

With his life, crew, and ship back in his hands, Kid felt so tired that he felt he would keel over any moment. He had already endured a day of water torture, running all around Udon and Hakumai, blood loss, and overexerting his abilities. But there were things he still needed to tend to, as the Captain.

Pelt and Rack had perished in captivity, they learned. Pelt had been bitten by one of the SMILE prison guards and bled out; Rack had been dragged under heavy machinery.

This was the part that always weighed heaviest on Kid. The loss of comrades was inevitable in a pirate's life, but as the Captain, Kid could not help but feel tremendous guilt from each loss.

Being a Captain was not about who was the smartest, had the best plans, gathered the most information, or had the best delegation skills.

In Kid’s view, it all boiled down to power; in the end, the Captain was the one who protected his subordinates. Kid would be the first to admit that he was a shit boss in many ways, but this was the one part of his job he took seriously, for the sake of the men who had thrown in their lot with Kid's dream.

There was no way to recover Pelt and Rack's bodies. The Kid Pirates held a makeshift funeral for them, gathering their clothing and burning them in a bonfire. 

“We drink to Pelt and Rack, they were our brothers.

“We won’t rest until they get their revenge.

“We'll remember their names on the day we carve ours on history.”

With this short eulogy, Kid drank from his glass, and the crewmen followed suit. Kid poured the rest of the bottle onto the bonfire, the flame soaring high into the night sky for a moment before settling back down.

The crew filed back aboard the Victoria Punk after the memorial. Doc had taken Killer to the infirmary to patch him up first; the slashes on his chest would take a while to clean and stitch.

Kid put forced cheer into his voice as he addressed the crew.

"It took a while, but I appreciate you all sticking it out until we could rescue your sorry asses. Get rested, we’ll need to start regrouping tomorrow. Dismissed."

The men shuffled off to the bunks, but Heat and Wire lingered.

“You two got something to say?” Said Kid, with barely repressed tension.

Heat and Wire looked guilty but resolute.

“We wanted to explain what happened to Killer-san after we split up.”

“Spit it out then.”

“Killer-san made a deal with Orochi that he'd do anything he ordered, if the rest of us would be sent to prison labor.”

It was a piss-poor deal, but Kid was not surprised that was the kind of thing on offer. “What was the alternative?”

“He was going to have us sent to Queen, I think he experiments on prisoners.”

Kid could agree that was not the preferable option.

“I'm not sure what happened after that,” continued Wire, “but I think Killer-san ate a bad SMILE.”

“A SMILE? That doesn't look like any SMILE I've seen.”

“The ones with animal powers are the successful ones. The bad ones make you laugh uncontrollably, is what I heard,” explained Wire.

“I'm sorry, boss,” said Heat heavily.

Out of nowhere, blinding rage hit Kid like a speeding train. He slammed his metal hand right through the wall, exploding it into splinters.

“What the fuck are you apologizing to me for?” Kid roared. “It's Killer you should be saying that to!”

“We understand,” Heat said, head bowed. “We will let him know we’re sorry, we promise.”

The infirmary doors opened and Killer stepped out. He had most certainly heard the outburst; his shoulders were stiff and his gait rigid. Kid trailed after Killer as he made his way to his personal quarters.

Space was at a premium aboard a pirate ship, but when they first commissioned the Victoria Punk, Kid had insisted that Killer take his own quarters. Even though he had protested at first, it was evident Killer enjoyed his private space and had made it his own: walls covered with soundproofing, the drum kit put away in the corner, bookshelf and desk piled with papers and books, spare masks and blades mounted on the wall.

Killer picked up one of the masks and stared hard at it as though he was trying to comprehend its function, eyes solemn despite the unnatural smile stretching his lips. He put it down, and spoke to Kid gently. “I need to sleep, please get some rest, Kid.”

It occurred to Kid that this was the first time Killer had spoken to him in this whole month.

“Killer--” Kid began, but Killer held up a hand in clear dismissal. “Good night, Kid.”

  
  


When Kid woke up the next morning, Killer was there at the mess hall. He was dressed in T-shirt and jeans, mask and gauntlet in place, hair loose and falling over his back. He was sitting at the table, writing down a list on a piece of paper.

The sight felt surreal; had yesterday been a dream? Killer looked up from the inventory he was doing, and for a long moment, Kid and Killer merely stared at each other across the mess hall.

“Morning, Kid,” Killer said at length. He looked so similar to the old Killer, that Kid could swear that any moment he would start scolding Kid for the enormous hole he had put in the wall last night.

But the brittle illusion of normalcy was immediately shattered by the spasming shoulders and the deranged chuckles that escaped through the mask.

Usually when Killer was like this, trying so hard to act like nothing was wrong, Kid knew that Killer was done talking about it and wanted to be left alone. Killer tended to process things himself, and didn’t see much use in venting.

But there was that tension all over his body, a lingering madness that Kid could palpably feel and wished he could relieve.

“Killer,” Kid pleaded, kneeling in front of Killer and taking his hand, “Please tell me what happened to you.”

“You heard it from Heat and the others, didn’t you? I ate a SMILE fruit, it makes you laugh and smile when you feel anything, and it turns you into an anchor.”

“But who did it to you? How did it happen?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Killer. “Does it really matter? I already ate it.”

There was such a finality to his words, an abject weariness, that Kid could not press the issue. If this was anything like their usual relationship, Kid would harangue and wheedle until Killer caved and told him what was on his mind. But this was different from any other time, even the time of their defeat at the hands of Red-Hair, when they had lost several men, Kid’s arm had been sliced off and Killer had suffered deep burns all down his left arm.

Killer was a flame on the verge of sputtering out, and for once, Kid had no idea how to handle the situation.

Kid couldn’t be sure that, even though he had recovered Killer in body, his partner hadn’t fallen forever out of his reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my attempt to fill in the gap between Chapters 950 and 977, from when Kid and Killer escaped from Udon Prison to when the Kid Pirates joined the battle at Onigashima.
> 
> The basic outlines of the story are there in the manga, but there are so many questions begging to be answered.
> 
> Why did Killer seem so distraught when Kid and Killer were captured together, and why would he not speak to Kid?  
> Why did Killer refer to Orochi as Shogun when he encountered Zoro?  
> What happened in the days between the escape and the Kid Pirates joining the battle that Killer’s mental state is seemingly returned to normal?  
> What made Kid decide to join the battle against Kaido?
> 
> I attempted to come up with some answers to my own questions.
> 
> The time frame of the Kid Pirates’ capture and imprisonment is hard to figure out, though we can pinpoint the day of their escape to be eight days before the attack on Onigashima. I thought it seemed reasonable to assume that the Kid Pirates spent at least four weeks in imprisonment, and that’s the premise I’m going with in this story.
> 
> The weapons factory that Kid destroys is not canon.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: explicit description of capital punishment (seppuku); humiliation; implied child abuse; traumatic flashbacks
> 
> Chapter 2 will be quite explicit, so please read at your discretion.

“My, my,” Orochi crooned, “What a pretty face he’s been hiding under that mask.”

He looked around at his assorted retainers with an air of glee. “It’s a good thing Kaido didn’t take this one - he would have been wasted in that drunkard’s hands!”

He turned his gaze to Killer, bound and kneeling, and pinched his unmasked chin between his fingers.

“You are sorely lacking in breeding, but then I have never seen a barbarian from the outside sea to know his place. Only ignorance would breed such insolence as to demand negotiation with a Shogun!

“But I have taken a liking to you; I expect you to keep your side of your bargain or I am liable to retract my generosity. Nothing less than complete obedience, or your packmates will be sent to Queen as originally planned.”

  
.........................

Killer was stripped of his gauntlets and clothing, and dressed in new robe-like garments, held together with a wide sash.

Killer was informed that Orochi would make use of him as an assassin, and that he would now answer to the code name of Kamazo.

Killer was installed in a small, isolated hut in the woods.

Killer had a curfew, the time they called the hour of the Ox, whereupon he must return to his hut on the threat of death. His minder, one of Orochi’s men, would check that he had completed his missions and brief him on his new assignments.

Killer was not kept shackled or bound. A message, perhaps, that they would eventually find him if he ran; or a smug knowledge that Killer’s captivity was already secured by his own loyalty to his crewmates.

Killer thought, with a sense of foreboding, that this seemed all too easy. He had indeed been ready to accept any conditions to keep his crewmates as intact as possible. It was the very least of his duties, the bare minimum of the debt he owed to them.

For Killer wasn't about to fool himself - this whole predicament was all his fault. 

Kid, probably, would disagree - he would take responsibility upon himself, claiming that he should be the one to take care of everything as the Captain. 

Killer remembered the night of the alliance between Kid and himself, Hawkins, and Apoo, when Killer had been gripped by a sudden feeling of doubt and dread. Kid had sat by him in the mess hall, and declared that everything would be all right; that even if things went bad, Kid would be there to put everything to rights. Killer could remember the confidence shining in his gold eyes, the reassurance of his firm grip on his hand; Kid had dispelled his doubts and had filled him with conviction.

But that feeling of conviction was hard to recall in this hut, a thousand miles away from the Victoria Punk’s mess hall.

The last Killer had seen of Kid was his bloody and unconscious form, picked up bodily in Kaido’s hand like a rag doll. Killer knew that Kid had given him those reassurances because he really believed in them, but in the end his views were mere sentimentality. There was no arguing with cold hard facts.

And the facts were - it was Killer and no one else who had insisted upon bringing Apoo into their ill-fated alliance. Killer had gone against his own Captain's wishes to do so. Killer might have just as well delivered his comrades' necks to Kaido on a golden platter.

If he lost any of the crew, if he lost Kid - the blood would be on Killer's hands alone.

.........................

The role of assassin brought Killer access to more information than he could ever hope to gather as a prisoner.

It necessitated travel all over the provinces of Wano, as well as a certain degree of autonomy. He was provided with posters of wanted criminals, and was expected to learn their faces. 

Though his minders would not speak to him outside of issuing orders, his immersion into Orochi's forces guaranteed Killer a certain level of insight on the inner workings of the Beasts Pirates.

Killer had almost no prior knowledge of the Beasts Pirates’ operations, as not much information on Kaido was publically available. Though Kid and Killer had tried to tap into news of the Underworld whenever they could, some weapons dealing was all that had come up in connection with Kaido's name. Really, Kaido had not even been on the Kid Pirates’ radar at all; they had been focusing all their intel on the Red Hair Pirates at the time of their capture.

The Calamities were common knowledge, with their hefty bounties and fearsome reputation, but the chain of command below them had been less clear. It had been a minor surprise to discover a familiar face in the upper ranks of the Beasts Pirates, the Tobi Roppo X Drake.

Killer was largely indifferent to X Drake's presence, but the two other Supernovas were a different matter. If Killer was honest with himself, he dreaded being called into the service of Hawkins, whom Killer had once seen riding past on a mount with retainers in tow, or worse yet, the traitor Apoo. Though Orochi and Kaido's lines of command were separate, they were expected to work cooperatively as the situation required.

Wano itself was probably the biggest, as well as the most useless, revelation to come from Killer's captivity. Once upon a time Killer had dismissed Wano as a mere legend, or at best an irrelevance in the grander scheme of the seas. If Killer could return to being an impartial spectator, he would be truly shocked to discover that the Land of Gold was alive and well, as the headquarters of Kaido’s operations at that.

.........................

Killer's hut was in the woods of Hakumai, hidden among many abandoned buildings. Close enough to the Flower Capital, where most of Orochi’s political enemies were located, but isolated enough that he would avoid detection by the patrol.

In the meager free time he could scrounge up between his missions and his curfew, Killer’s focus was on getting as much information as he could on the whereabouts of the crew.

It was cutting it close, as he would often have to clear many assignments in a day, but Killer made it a point to stray out from his necessary itinerary in search of a lead.

Only one of his ventures ever yielded anything of value, a large brick structure in the woods of Hakumai. Killer crept along the wall until he found a gate, where he caught a glimpse of Heat and Wire far in the distance. He was too far to hail them down and too underpowered to attempt a rescue. Killer could only file away the knowledge and hope it would be useful later on.

.........................

  
  
  
One day, Killer received an unexpected summons to Orochi's palace.

He was brought to a banquet hall. The women with odd, elaborate hairstyles had their voluminous sashes tied at the front like Killer's own; the men were dressed in sedate robes.

Their cool gazes turned into smirks as they saw their entertainment of the evening.

Orochi's eyes kept sidling to the obvious queen bee of the party, a beauty bedecked with ostentatious decorations from head to toe.

"My my, that obi is in truly mischievous taste, my Lord," the queen bee said.

Orochi preened at her attention. "Look at his face!" He crowed. "I just couldn't resist. You agree that it suits him?"

"Most definitely, my Lord," another courtesan tittered. "He looks just like a woman!"

"But that lion's mane!"

"But ladies, we didn't bring him in just to look at him: this one was an infamous criminal in the outside seas, and we will observe his fighting prowess."

Orochi addressed a man with a blue pompadour. “You brought your fighter, Kyoshiro?”

“Of course, my Lord,” Kyoshiro replied smoothly, and motioned for another man to be brought out, a native of Wano, judging from his appearance.

Killer and the man were made to stand facing one another on the dancers’ stage, and were each given a dagger.

“The duel ends on the first blood. Bets on the outcome, ladies and gentlemen.”

Killer immediately assumed a fighting stance. The man bowed instead, his hands together in front of him, and Killer awkwardly copied the gesture.

“Begin,” called Orochi.

It was nowhere close to an even match. The man lunged at him, but Killer dodged the blade with not a movement wasted. Almost on instinct, Killer’s blade carved through the opening in the man’s stance and made a shallow gash on his neck. The only effort Killer had to expend was to control the power of his strike; he usually attacked to kill, not to wound.

Whines of disappointment came from the audience.

"That was too quick!" A courtesan yelled.

“I second that,” said Orochi. “The audience demands more blood; why do we not have the loser show penance by seppuku?”

Orochi turned to Kyoshiro again. "He is your subordinate; will you not serve as the kaishaku, Kyoshiro?"

"Come now, my Lord, he is but a lowly kobun; might not his humiliation today be punishment enough for him?"

“No insubordination from you, Kyoshiro!" Orochi snapped out, all traces of his earlier joviality gone in an instant. "You would put the life of a kobun before the words of the Shogun?”

Kyoshiro took his place behind the man with an air of great distaste, drawing his sword at the ready.

The man knelt, face drawn to pallor, and was given a cup of sake. He drank it, hands shaking, and relinquished the cup to exchange it with a dagger.

He plunged it into his own stomach, and jerked the blade horizontally. No sooner had an expression of agony appeared on his face, than Kyoshiro's blade swung down and severed his head neatly into the man's lap. Twin jets of blood spurted from the carotid arteries.

"It was a death of greater honor than his station deserved; my own forebear was not given the mercy of a kaishaku." Muttered Orochi.

It was very strange, thought Killer, what these people considered honor.

It was evident that nobody other than Orochi had enjoyed the spectacle. Appalled silence had fallen over the banquet hall. Orochi seemed not to notice, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. Like a striking snake, he now turned his lethal attention to Killer.

“Now, wasn’t this one a good fighter?” He purred. “He deserves some sake as a reward.”

The queen bee poured Orochi a cup of sake.

“Don't they teach you any manners in the outside seas? Come closer.”

The guards who had been silent and unobtrusive in the shadows stepped up to drag Killer in front of Orochi. 

“Kneel, take it with both hands.”

The guards pressed him down to the floor. Killer took the sake cup as ordered.

“Now, drink.”

Killer drank the sake. The taste did not even register; Killer's nerves were buzzing with the awareness that his life hung on a precipice. 

Orochi tsked. “How unappreciative he is of sake bestowed by the Shogun himself.”

“He is just too nervous to appreciate the honor, my Lord,” said the queen bee in a subdued voice.

“This one can be livened up yet,” said Orochi darkly.

  
  


* * *

There was no shortage of problems that the Kid Pirates needed to solve, in order to get themselves back into basic operating shape.

Kaido had done significant damage to the hull of the Victoria Punk. The ship was still seaworthy, but would not be for long without some repair.

The freezer had long since powered down, and it expelled a cloud of mold when they opened the door. All the non-perishables they had was alcohol, two crates of canned sardines, a jar of preserved limes, and dried pasta. 

They had no Log Pose and no charts of the surrounding area.

The Kid Pirates had spent all morning drawing up a list of the supplies they needed and hammering out a plan to plunder one of the settlements. They understood from the information gleaned over their captivity that most of the settlements would be too impoverished to yield anything, in which case they would have to attack one of the Beasts Pirates outposts directly.

While Kid was away with a team to plunder supplies, Killer remained at the ship to oversee the myriad tasks to be done around the ship.

To be honest, It was distressing for him to be surrounded by his crewmates. The laughter could not be completely controlled, bursting forth at inopportune moments and filling him with humiliation every time. 

He knew, rationally, that the crew would commit no such insubordination as to ridicule his laugh. They would in all likelihood not think much of it at all. There was no shortage of freaks and deviants among the Kid Pirates; more outlandish quirks were tacitly accepted every day. Hell, they did not even care that he ate pasta through the holes in his mask.

Nonetheless, he could not help but imagine judgment lurking under every neutral face, a hidden smirk under every innocuous question. He wondered which was worse - that they would think: what a disgusting laugh, no wonder he’s been covering it up all this time; or that they would think: that’s it? That’s what he’s been so worked up about, enough to go around with his face covered by a mask?

Even worse than the possibility of ridicule was the possibility that they all silently blamed him. 

Though he and Kid had eventually managed to retrieve them, the fact remained that he had put his crewmates through a month of imprisonment and abuse. Even now they were trapped in a hostile land with no guarantee of escape. Perhaps he could make it up to them in the future; but there were no reparations to be made for Pelt and Rack, who had died for Killer's mistake.

He had no argument for his crewmates if they took him to fault, if they questioned his judgment and authority, If they chose to confront him with blame and recrimination.

He felt a stranger in his own ship and home, the Victoria Punk that he had been with from the moment of its christening. He wondered if it would not be easier if he could simply hide away, far from everyone; but he could not possibly do so now when so many tasks needed his input.

  
  


* * *

Ten days into his capture, Killer was called into Orochi’s presence once again.

He was not made to fight this time.

The assorted guests and courtesans regarded him with cool amusement and anticipation as Killer was brought in and seated in front of Orochi.

Orochi held up a fruit, an apple with target patterns on the skin.

“Do you know what this fruit is?”

Killer shook his head.

“It is a rare fruit, the pinnacle of the artifice of the outside seas. One in ten, it will grant the eater the powers of an animal; in the other nine, the eater will be made to laugh at all he sees."

Killer recalled the strange half-man-half-beasts he had seen in the Beasts Pirates forces. This was a SMILE, then.

“You realize that I can simply order you to take this fruit, but I am feeling magnanimous tonight. I will give you a choice: eat this fruit, and I will give you a chance to save your Captain.

"It will be good for you, either way; even if you gain no powers from it, you should learn to smile in the presence of your betters.”

The sight of the grotesque chimeras had, frankly, sickened him. But Killer's mind was already made up, as long as he could be sure of one thing.

“What is the proof that you have my Captain alive?” Killer’s voice was hoarse from disuse; he had not had much occasion to talk, these days.

Orochi's grin turned sour and he struck Killer’s face with the back of his hand. But his drawling voice continued on as nothing had happened.

“Do not worry - what kind of Shogun would I be to not honor my word? I assure you that your Captain is living. Now, what is your answer?”

Killer nodded.

Orochi laughed merrily, and gestured expansively at his guests. "Bets on the outcome, ladies and gentlemen! Success or failure? Bird, beast, or insect?"

As the guests made a to-do about their bets, Killer knelt, a cold dread in his stomach like lead. He imagined any moment a beast’s head sprouting out of his chest, or his arms turning into mantis claws. It took the very last drop of his willpower to bring the Fruit to his mouth and bite down.

It should have been a relief that he had ended up with a failed Fruit; but the sensation of the sweet fruit turning into laughter bubbling up in his gut like vomit, his diaphragm spasming in ways it had not in years and years, the muscles on his cheeks stretching uncontrollably, was in itself a nightmare come true.

He felt dissociated; it took him moments to realize that the deranged Fwa fwa fwa! echoing around the banquet hall was coming from his own mouth.

Hot shame ran through his body, the same shame he had done everything to lock away for years, not any less potent for having been repressed for so long. Words rang clear in his ears, blocking out every other sound around him:

Stop that disgusting laughing, you sure didn't get that habit from my side of the family.

It's your own fault he touched you, you had to be born just like your whore mother, I didn't raise my son to be a tattletale.

Francis is a Psycho Killer, fa fa fa fa--

Unspeakable sensations came back to him along with the words ringing in his ears. Hiding in a dark room, shivering with infection and dehydration. Creeping hands on his bare flesh. The feeling of utter powerlessness in the face of a cruel, malevolent adult. The realization that he was surrounded by enemies with no one to help him. 

The things he had never, ever wanted to feel, ever again. Never again.

Locked in his private hell, Killer remained unaware as they took him back to his physical cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orochi's description of Killer's face is based on the design of Kamazo, particularly the obi (sash). Kamazo's obi is distinctly feminine in its width and the way it is tied. It appears to be a heko obi, versions of which can be worn by both women and men as casual wear, but it is much too wide and voluminous to be a man's. More jarringly, the knot is on the front. In current kimono rules, the knot never comes on the front - the immediate connotations of a front-tied obi are prostitutes and courtesans. This design choice immediately struck me as odd, and I chose to read it as a further element of humiliation from Orochi.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mentions of torture; suicidal thoughts
> 
> Not explicit, but quite dark. 

Night had fallen, and Kid was mulling things over in the Captain’s quarters.

When Kid returned from his day of pillaging for supplies, Killer had seemed just as tired and cagey as he had been in the morning. Stress and tension had been evident in his posture, and his words sounded forced as they discussed the results of the plunder. Killer would not join the rest of the crew for dinner, but retired to his room to eat alone.

Kid heard Killer's cabin door open next door, and his footsteps walking down the hallway. _Where is he going,_ thought Kid with a note of concern.

Outside the window the night was clear, but clouds were moving in quickly from the distance.

  
  
  


Today's excursion had given Kid much to think about. As the Kid Pirates had suspected, the civilian settlements were too poor and starving themselves to have anything worth taking. They had to resort to their last choice, which was to attack a Beasts Pirates outpost. It was not an easy mission, as they had to kill the whole lot of Beasts Pirates manning the premises.

But their decision turned out to be fortunate, as it had rewarded them with information on top of supplies: a detailed map of Wano being the main prize.

The Kid Pirates discovered that Wano was located on a plateau-like structure, surrounded on all sides by a sheer cliff. The map told them there was apparently only one way to get out of the island, through Mogura Port, though the map did not specify the exact method by which to do so.

It was not exactly welcome information, but it did give Kid a direction to the question that had been brewing in his mind: what would they do next?

  
  
  


Straw Hat's offer echoed in his mind; indeed, it had been at the back of Kid’s mind ever since he and Killer had escaped from Udon Prison.

 _We’re attacking Kaido in eight days,_ Straw Hat had told him. _You wanna join me?_

The thought of working with Straw Hat made his hackles rise for reasons he couldn't figure out.

Straw Hat had been a good distraction back in the prison, Kid would admit that much. _Jaggy,_ Straw Hat had taken to calling him, as though Kid were some old buddy of his. Bickering and squabbling with the idiot monkey was the first time in a long while that Kid had a reprieve from the worry and anxiety that had been growing inside him all those weeks in prison.

Kid was physically strong and robust; he had recovered easily from the injuries Kaido had caused, and could more than endure the harsh conditions and the labor of the prison.

Kid had tried several times to escape, but neither stealth nor making detailed plans was Kid’s strong suit and he was captured and beaten every time.

As the escape attempts piled up, the despondent and fatalistic attitude of the prisoners around him had begun to seep into Kid's heart.

But out of nowhere Straw Hat had been thrown into the cell right next to him, and stirred up some good trouble back in Kid’s life again.

  
  
  


Straw Hat was an anomaly and a threat to Kid’s worldview itself. He lived by a code that Kid couldn't fathom, and his fantastic success flew in the face of everything Kid thought he knew about being a pirate.

No good deed goes unpunished, was a tried and true tenet in Kid’s experience. The Kid Pirates did not stick out their necks for anyone who was not their own.

But Straw Hat had worried for Kid’s and Killer’s lives.

Straw Hat's ally had freed him from his shackles when they had nothing to gain from doing so.

Straw Hat had voluntarily gotten himself infected with one of Queen's nasty viruses in order to rouse the spirits of the dejected prisoners.

Even though Kid found Straw Hat’s motives confounding and irrational, Kid could not help but be jealous of Straw Hat's power to galvanize the people around him.

  
  
  


For as humiliating as it was, he'd been galvanized by Straw Hat as well. For once, Kid had not been the electric current but the hunk of metal; it was a blow to his pride Kid wasn’t sure he could forgive.

During some inconsequential argument between them, Kid had sneered at Straw Hat: _Then why ain't you going after your crew, huh? Or Trafalgar?_

It would have been too easy to throw those words right back at Kid, who had been stuck in prison for much longer, but Straw Hat did not take the bait.

An eerie prophetic look had appeared in those wide fish eyes of his, the very same look that Kid had seen in his eyes back in Sabaody, when Straw Hat had declared to Kid's face that he would be the one to find the One Piece.

 _I’m getting stronger here for now,_ Straw Hat had told him. _I’ll get out and join them when it’s time._

That look had fucking bothered Kid back in Sabaody and it didn't bother him any less this time.

It had spurred Kid to make his fifth escape attempt that night, and this time he made it out of the prison and all the way to the Flower Capital.

  
  
  


But in the end, it wasn’t any obligation or jealousy toward Straw Hat that made the path forward clear in Kid's mind. Kid’s reasoning was more practical than anything else.

It was clear that turning tail and running would cause more problems than it would solve. They had no way out of the archipelago without taking over Mogura Port. Even if they did manage to make an escape some other way, they had no Log Pose to direct them to another island.

For once, a direct confrontation was the more feasible plan of action. And Kid had to admit, it suited Kid’s style better.

Kid, after all, had been in this situation countless times before: he had been beaten up by bullies far stronger than him, and survived, and had beaten in their faces once he overtook them in strength.

Kid had made a career out of treading over people who laughed at his dream. Now his opponent was a Yonko; so be it. That just meant that Kid wasn't a small fry anymore.

  
  
  


Kid’s mind was made up. The only thing left to do was check if Killer was on board with it.

_Killer._

Kid noticed that the rain had started to fall outside. Kid swore, and rushed out to the deck.

* * *

Orochi was not a Shogun of his word.

Killer never did get the chance to save his Captain. Belatedly, Killer realized that Orochi had probably been bluffing. Kid was Kaido’s prisoner, after all, and it was unlikely Orochi had any influence over Kid’s fate.

Killer knew that second-guessing his choice now would only drive him to madness, but it was simply impossible not to do so. 

One day, Killer snapped, and assaulted his minder almost to the point of killing him, demanding an audience with Orochi.

Retribution came swift after that. It was declared that Kamazo needed to learn his place.

He was made to prostrate himself, over and over; made to repeat affirmations of Orochi’s glory; caned if he failed to address his minders with the appropriate honorifics.

The laughter choked him all the while.

In the end, it was just easier - easier to bow when they told him to; easier to call himself Kamazo; easier to address his minders by the terms they demanded.

Even now they did not shackle him. They understood all too well that he was a voluntary prisoner, already leashed and collared by invisible binds.

The maddening thing was, he had no way of knowing that his adherence to the bargain was not in vain. If Orochi had been lying about giving him a chance to save his Captain, how could he be sure that his crewmates had not already been used in Queen’s experiments, or already dead?

The only confirmation he had of his crewmates’ survival was the sight of Heat and Wire at that factory prison, a whole week ago at this point. 

But giving up, running away to grasp at his own freedom at the expense of all hope for his crewmates, was unthinkable. He returned to the hut after his missions, night after night.

.........................

  
  


The laughter was easier to control when he did not let himself think. Kamazo moved freely through the wooded path, bounding and erratic, as gaily as dancing.

Kamazo cared little for his upkeep now; they would clean and bandage him up again, after they were done. But his last target had struggled and ran, and the kill had been bloody. The day was humid and the stench of blood and guts on his robes was hard to bear.

Kamazo threw himself into the river to clean himself of the gore. All he felt was confusion at the sudden drainage of the strength in his limbs, his body plunged into a deep chill as some vital force in him contracted and shrank away from the water.

He was hauled out and deposited onto the riverbank, coughing and chuckling.

A pair of boots stepped up in front of him. Kamazo identified the man as a Tobi Roppo, with orange hair and a stern mouth.

Kamazo refused to remember this man. The man, mercifully, seemed to comply with his silent wishes, staring impassively down at his prone form.

"Kamazo, assassin of Orochi?" The Tobi Roppo asked.

"You would do well to know that eating a SMILE fruit makes you unable to swim," he continued without waiting for an answer.

"Or were you aware?"

Kamazo shook his head no. 

"Then continue on your way," the Tobi Roppo said. He turned on his heel and motioned for his subordinates to follow.

He lay there a while on the riverbank, waiting for the strength to return to his limbs. This new knowledge filled him with a sense of acute loss, but of what, Kamazo would not think about.

.........................

  
  


On his way to an assignment, Kamazo stopped briefly to listen to strains of music coming from the whorehouse.

A sole female voice, no accompaniment. Probably practicing for clients. An unfamiliar song, all protracted, wavering syllables and mournful pentatonic scale. The music of Wano had so far sounded toneless and unpleasant to his foreigner’s ears, but Kamazo could appreciate something about this one.

...A child unaware

Of the silver dewdrops

A Buddha

Soon enough 

For the murderer, too…

Dew on the grass

This world

Is a dewdrop world

And yet…

.........................

  
  


Kamazo's next target was a little girl. She had a smile like his own.

What was he to feel pity or guilt? Perhaps the child would be better off dead at his blade, than cursed to laugh for all eternity.

Kamazo's blade, just short of the moment of its reaping, was stayed by the criminal, Zorojuro. Another face from another time. 

Another man with lives of his own to protect. Kamazo understood but could not yield to him. Was it for the sake of the Shogun or was it for something else that he must not yield? It mattered not; he did not need to remember anything except that he must not fail.

It was easy to lose himself in the rhythm of the fight, as close to joy as it could come. The blows clashed hard enough to shake the snow off the branches, and more than once their blades whistled past a mere hairbreadth from flesh. The threefold strike to Kamazo's chest came blessedly sudden, masterfully executed in a moment of confusion.

Pain, numbing quickly in the cold, the falling snow comforting like sleep. What a relief, Kamazo thought, finally I can die.

Until he remembered despite himself -- there was a reason he needed to live, and he had failed --  
  
  
  


* * *

He went out to the deck, drawn out by some restlessness in his bones. 

His first day out of captivity had been a torture of its own, though it could not compare to the endless nights in the hut, hot and uncomfortable and painful and stifling.

The nonsense that the Wano people had beaten into him had, in the end, taken root in his mind. He now understood on some level, what they meant by an honorable death; the meanings behind the hierarchies and rituals; the unshakeable might of the Shogun in the eyes of the Wano people.

The part of him that had been warped by Wano now longed for his own redemption to be complete. Head chopped off and spurting blood, or buried completely in the falling snow, or sinking into the sea while saving his Captain.

For the murderer, too, dew on the grass. 

He wondered why he should not do it now, why not indeed, but remembered that he would not be saving anyone by throwing himself away into the sea. He could never save his Captain that way again.

The life stretching in front of him suddenly seemed incredibly long and burdensome.

The rain started to fall, which was fortunate as it covered both the sounds of his braying laughter and his tears.

Kid came out to the deck, his face stormy, and dragged him bodily off of the railing and back inside the ship. He was tucked into the bed in the Captain’s quarters, wet and shivering. Kid clutched at him as they had during cold and rainy nights in their little shelter in the scrap island, back in South Blue. In those days Kid had been the one seeking warmth and comfort; now he seemed intent on imparting it back to its erstwhile source.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics to the song are three haiku poems by Kobayashi Issa put together. Translations by David G. Lanoue, haikuguy.com.
> 
> X Drake's cameo appearance was inspired by a Drake/Killer author, 八千代, on Pixiv. Much of the setting and characterization in this fic are indebted to the author's works as well.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

The storm had stopped in the night. The morning was just dawning, clear without clouds.

The slow rocking of the waves cradled the Victoria Punk and its inhabitants. The Captain's quarters were bathed in the dim gold light of the rising sun.

The morning air was chill, but the blanket cocooning the two men on the bed retained their body heat between them.

Killer was slumbering soundly. In sleep, the unnatural smile was gone, and no spasming laughter interrupted the deep, even breaths. Killer looked peaceful and serious.

Kid traced the beloved face with his gaze. The thick lashes resting light on his cheeks, the bow-shaped mouth a little downturned. It was thinner than it had been a month ago, bruised and cut at places, but still whole.

Kid brushed the golden hair away from his partner’s forehead with uncharacteristic gentleness, careful not to wake him.

How unbelievably relieved he was to have Killer here right now, to have and to hold.

Last night, when Kid found Killer sitting on the railing in the pouring rain, Kid had been sure that Killer would jump into the sea any moment and be lost to him forever. 

Kid realized how wrong he had been, the day he and Killer had escaped from prison. He’d thought then that the worst case scenario had happened - when Kid thought Killer could not speak, when he saw the evidence of the abuse that Killer had endured, when he saw Killer so altered and tormented, by that accursed SMILE.

But now Kid realized that he had been spared the unthinkable.

  
  


The most painful moment of Kid’s days in prison had not been the failed escape attempts or the beatings, but some entirely inconsequential event.

He’d found a strand of long blond hair in his coat, that had miraculously survived Kaido's beating and days of manual labor. Memories flashed in his eyes--

 _You shed like a dog,_ he'd laughed to Killer, holding out his coat, showing him the many long yellow strands that stood out from the maroon fur.

And Killer had quipped, _All your shedding just blends in with that coat of yours,_ and handed him a lint roller.

He saw Killer so clearly, unmasked and looking up from the logs he was writing. It was all Kid could do to stop himself from weeping in front of the other prisoners.

He couldn't find the strand again when he returned to his cell after his day of labor.

Some part of his heart took the loss harder than it was ever reasonable to - as though he had lost the one piece of evidence that his partner had ever existed, and thereby had erased him from the earth along with it.

The thought of Killer no longer being on this earth had haunted him for days, filling him with indescribable anguish.

  
  
  


Killer might have been altered, he might have been broken, but that did not matter in the end. As long as Killer was alive Kid could still fight for him.

As Killer had helped Kid adjust to life without his left arm, Kid would now help Killer live with whatever he had endured.

As much as Kid knew that he was Killer's reason for living, so was Killer to him, had been from the start.

Even as a child, when he finished a toy robot, half the fun was showing Killer what he had made. Never stingy with praise, Killer would always tell him, _Good job, Kid, I'm proud of you._

And was that not what he had always looked forward to, all this time?

What would it matter if he found the One Piece, if he did not have Killer to share it with?  
  


Kid lay there beside Killer, watching over his sleeping face, until the ethereal sunrise turned into the plain light of day and he could hear the sounds of the crew starting breakfast outside.

.........................

Killer joined the rest of the crew for breakfast this time.

As the night watch briefed them on their uneventful shift, Killer’s laugh, like a hiccup, rang out in the mess hall.

Fwa fwa fwa, Heat and Wire echoed.

A burst of startled laughter from Killer.

Fwa fwa fwa, echoed Heat and Wire again, now joined in by the rest of the crew.

Kid widened his eyes in confusion at the blatant insubordination.

The forks and knives on the table started rattling.

But Killer raised a hand to stop him before Kid could dish out immediate retribution.

“What is the meaning of this?” Killer asked, deathly calm. 

Killing intent, as tangible as Haki, had instantly filled the mess hall. In the air, charged with danger, it was clear that one wrong move would cause an explosion. Though nothing about Killer’s posture had changed, one suddenly felt that any moment he would draw his blades and massacre them all. 

Even Kid could only watch in tense silence in the face of Killer’s cold fury. 

"Killer-san," said Heat gently. “We’re not trying to make fun of your laugh, please understand.”

“We know that you sacrificed a lot to keep us safe, and we can’t say enough how grateful we are.” Wire continued.

“We're proud of your laugh, even if you never wanted to show it to us. If you have to laugh, please let us laugh with you." Finished Heat.

Killer threw back his head and laughed, madly and hard, letting it echo all around the mess hall.

The whole crew waited with bated breath for Killer's fit of laughter to stop. There was no telling what was going on under the mask, if he was really laughing, or crying, or shaking from rage.

As the laughter died down to the last spasms, something seemed to relax in Killer finally. The killing intent dissipated. The caged beast look about him that had hung around him the last two days disappeared, leaving the Kid Pirates' long-suffering First Mate back in his rightful place.

"All right, but don't overdo it," said Killer. He ducked his head slightly, a familiar gesture of embarrassment. "Thanks, you two. Everyone. I appreciate it."

Cheering and laughter erupted from the crew, and Kid could not stop himself from laughing along with them.

He could not even bring himself to care that the crew had gone over his head to pull this crazy-ass stunt. Kid had to give it to his crew this time; they had balls.

Kid figured it was probably Heat's idea; it was the kind of thing he would do. Heat’s body modifications were a product of some horrifying torture in the past, but he had somehow come out of it with his dignity and empathy intact.

Kid felt a little bit of petty jealousy that he had not been the one to bring Killer back into the fold, but it really paled in the face of the overwhelming gratitude and optimism that swelled his heart.

* * *

When he awoke, he was shackled and taken to Orochi.

Orochi was still fuming, raring for revenge; he spared hardly a glance at his failed assassin as he ordered his execution.

He was paraded around the streets of the Flower Capital on the way to Udon Prison to be executed. For once he cared not at all about the gawking crowds. He was not Killer, he was not Kamazo. He had failed at any chances of redemption; he had nothing and no one to protect. What use was it, to grasp at dignity? What right had he to protect his pride? For the first time in his life he let himself go. He laughed madly and hard, letting it echo around the milling streets, baring his face for all to see. It was freeing, to relinquish himself so utterly; there was nothing tethering him down to the earth; soon his life would be over. No mockery could hurt him after all that had happened, nothing he did would have any consequences--

"KILLER!" A voice roared desperately.

"Who is that?"

"Detain him!"

"WHERE ARE YOU FUCKERS TAKING HIM?" Kid screamed.

Gunshots fired; a pained gurgle let him know that some had connected.

This was why he must hate his laugh. Like an abusive spouse, it had found a way to force itself back into his life even after he had done everything he could to run from it. More cruel than even Orochi could ever be, it would stop at nothing to ensure that his very last breath would be spent betraying the one he loved most in the world.

* * *

In the giddy, celebratory atmosphere that had settled over the Victoria Punk after breakfast, Killer stood at the figurehead of the ship, now at peace among his crewmates.

Kid came over and joined him at his side. They watched the crew working on the deck with no small amount of pride. At length, Kid spoke, looking seriously into Killer’s face. 

“You're part of my dream, Killer. It would be meaningless to be the Pirate King if you're not at my side. I don't know what you went through exactly, and maybe you'll never tell me, but I wanted to say - don't ever throw yourself away for me again, Killer.”

Killer couldn't promise him that; it was what they had always done, and would do for each other, time and again.

"But Kid, you came after me too," Killer reminded him. "You had a chance to escape but you threw it away for me."

"You really think I’d leave you there? Even after all we’ve been through together?”

“Of course not. I’m glad you came for me, Kid. I really am. I thought you were going to be executed because of me, I thought it was all my fault and everything would end there, but it didn't.”

The accursed laughter had tried its best to ruin him, but it had failed.

Where Killer had been dreading ridicule, blame, and accusations, he had instead been offered acceptance and forgiveness.

The conviction in Kid's gaze all those weeks ago - that everything would turn out all right - had proven true.

Killer could now see the extraordinary sequence of events that had conspired to bring them to this point: Kid finding Killer just as he was about to be executed, Big Mom barging in and interrupting their execution, Straw Hat's ally giving them the keys to their cuffs, Straw Hat leading a riot in Udon Prison, the news of the riot not having leaked out to the other prisons, finding the Victoria Punk intact and whole. Just one piece of the puzzle out of place, and things would have turned out very differently for the two of them.

“It's nothing less than a miracle that we’re alive now. And to think of it, we owe some of that to Straw Hat and his allies.

“I think we should fight Kaido with him.”

Kid was looking at him with a strange expression, hope and relief among a myriad other emotions.

"Of course I've been wrong before, about alliances," Killer said lightly, "but please do consider it."

Kid's expression morphed into a wide grin at his joke, surprised but pleased. 

"Ain't we all a dumbass sometimes," Kid said. He put his flesh arm around Killer and drew him roughly to his side.

"Well, I'll tell you I'm of the same mind. But remember, we ain't doing it for Straw Hat; I got a bone to pick with Kaido myself."

Kid turned around and addressed the crew. They snapped to attention at the sound of his voice, ringing confidently over the deck of the Victoria Punk.

“Men, get ready, because we join the battle against Kaido in six days.

“We'll get revenge for what they did to us with our own hands.

“This time we'll take down a Yonko and stand on his ashes.

“Are you all ready to fight?”

The Kid Pirates responded to their summons with a resounding roar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last flashback was adapted from a fanart, by the artist テタ on Pixiv. The specifics turned out different, but I borrowed the idea that Killer’s laugh was the reason Kid got caught, and it served as the inspiration for the whole story.
> 
> Edit: Killer's flashback in Chapter 2 has been expanded in another fic, Psycho Killer (warning: dark content).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
